Chapter XIV: Bound to Succeed

No wonder the young scout-master was surprised and thrilled by what he saw as he crouched there amidst the bushes, and stared over their tops.

Not more than sixty or seventy yards away at the most there appeared to be a violent commotion among another bunch of brush, as though a number of unseen parties might be forcing their way through the obstruction.

Even as Elmer, and his chums as well, looked, a figure burst out, quickly followed by a second, a third, and then still more, until in all there were six in the queer procession that seemed to be heading directly for the late hide-out of the swamp fugitives.

What startled the boys most of all was the fact that they knew several of those who went to make up that strange company. First, there was Johnny Spreen, the bound boy at the Trotter farm, and who had given them so many points concerning the swamp he knew so well.

Just behind Johnny walked a consequential looking personage dressed in a blue uniform, and, with a glittering shield fastened on his left breast. Well did the Hickory Ridge boys know the Chief of Police in their own town. Behind him came a second and a third man, also in uniform, whom they knew to be local "cops;" while the next had the appearance of having been impressed into the posse; then at the tail end of the procession came Farmer Trotter, carrying an old musket that may have done duty in the Civil War, half a century back, for it looked like a fossil.

"Gosh!"

That was Lil Artha "letting off steam," as he would have termed it; but he uttered his favorite expression so very low that there was not the slightest danger of it's being overheard.

"Don't wink an eyelash if you can help it, fellows," whispered Elmer, who apparently, for reasons of his own, did not want the posse to know of their presence so near by.

Of course, the others instantly knew what he meant, and if they had been made of stone it is doubtful whether they could have maintained a more rigid attitude as they crouched there in the bushes.

Fortunately, all of the posse seemed to be looking ahead. Perhaps they had been warned by the bound boy that the place to which he was taking them was not very far distant, which would account for their eagerness.

So they passed on. Elmer kept whispering to his followers not to make a move unless it was to drop down flat on their faces. Apparently, not even Landy felt inclined to do this. As long as the Chief and his gallant posse remained in sight everyone crouched there and took it out in staring.

Then when even Farmer Trotter had been swallowed up in the scrub, sighs might have been heard arising from some of the boys' lips, as though they were relieved to have the suspense ended.

"Never glimpsed us!" remarked Mark, triumphantly.

"Blind as bats in the day-time!" added Landy.

"They didn't happen to turn this way," said Elmer; "and since you all kept so still I don't believe they'd have noticed us even if they had looked. I want to say it was well done, boys."

"That was Johnny Spreen, wasn't it?" asked Landy, as though he wanted to have someone corroborate what his own eyes had told him.

"It certainly was," said Lil Artha. "The farmer wouldn't let him come with us, but I guess the Chief just swore them both into his posse, and then they had to come or run up against the law. A sheriff or a police Chief can do that, you understand; no matter whether a man wants to serve or not, he's got to."

"And you all noticed, I reckon," remarked Chatz, "that they were making straight fo' the hide-out where Hen and that man spent the night. That shows Johnny must have figured out after we left him that it would be a good place for hiding. What do you all say about it?"

"Oh! there's no question but what you're correct, old top!" Lil Artha told him in his queer way. "But I'm real tickled because Elmer didn't take a notion to hail the Chief, and take him in on our deal."

Elmer laughed at that.

"It wasn't any 'Hail to the Chief' this time, you see, Lil Artha," he remarked. "We have borne the heat and burden of the day, and it wasn't right that that crowd, coming in at the tail end of the chase, should share alike with us. Besides, you remember we decided we wanted to get at poor Hen _before_ the law could lay a hand on him."

"So we did," muttered Chatz.

"But Elmer," objected Toby, "supposing they get to that place, and find the birds flown, don't you reckon they'll notice that we've been there?"

"So far as the Chief and his men go," returned the other, "I wouldn't believe them capable of finding out anything except that the camp was empty. But all the same I suppose they will know about us."

"Meaning that Johnny will see our tracks, and read the story there; is that it, Elmer?" queried Lil Artha, quick to catch on to the meaning of the patrol leader's words.

"Yes, Johnny will tell, because he's been hunting furs so long that he knows a heap about following tracks. When he finds out there were a lot of boys in the camp he'll guess we discovered the place."

"Mebbe they'll take it for granted we caught the birds, and be ready to throw up the game then and there?" suggested Toby.

"Hardly that," advised Elmer; "Johnny ought to be able to tell them different. He would soon learn after looking things over that all our tracks were made _after_ those of the man, when we left the camp. You see that must tell him we were pursuing the fellow. I put myself in Johnny's place; and that's how I believe I'd figure it out."

"A good way to do, too, believe me," said Mark.

"Then in that case," Lil Artha continued, "they'll be coming along after us before a great while. Whew! if this doesn't beat anything I ever took part in. It's a continuous procession, boys, winding in and out through the high lands of old Sassafras Swamp--first Hen and the man who controls his actions; then seven bold scouts of the Wolf Patrol; and finally our big puffball of a Chief and his valiant posse bringing up the rear."

"But we don't want them to overtake us, do we?" asked Landy, actually meaning to hint that they had better be moving on, which was a remarkable thing to enter the head of the Smith boy, always the first to desire a halt.

"We do not," Lil Artha informed him, plainly, "and to prevent such a horrible catastrophe from happening we expect to be on the jump again right away, doubling our pace it may be, Landy. The worst is yet to come, remember."

"Huh! you can't scare me any, Lil Artha," the fat scout told his tormentor; for he knew very well that with a trail to follow they could hardly proceed any more rapidly than before.

Progress was immediately resumed. They went forward in about the same manner as before, with Mark keeping Landy company at the tail-end of the procession. The situation was now growing more and more serious, and much depended on whether they could manage to overtake the fugitives before night came on. A whole day's tramping through the intricate recesses of the swamp, just as the dry land afforded footing, was a monumental task that must try the nerve of the best of them; and Landy, if not one or two others, would be apt to drop out of the ranks long before sunset came.

Elmer, however, was hopeful that they must overtake those they chased long before such utter weariness seized upon them. He knew that Hen Condit himself, although no weakling, could not stand hours upon hours of continual walking, especially when it consisted of such uncertain footing as fell to their portion under those conditions.

Complete exhaustion then might compel Hen to beg his companion to either leave him or else order a halt. One way or the other suited the scouts just as well, so long as they overtook Hen.

When Landy found that he was puffing from his exertions he took an extra grip on himself and would not listen to Lil Artha when the tall scout proposed that he drop out.

"All you have to do is to squat where we leave you, Landy," the other had told him in a wheedling way; "and after we're done our business we'll sure promise to look you up again, won't we, Elmer?"

"Nothing doing," snapped Landy, decisively; "what d'ye take me for, Lil Artha, to desert my poor chum Hen when he needs help so much? I'm a sticker I want you to know. Adhesive plasters haven't got anything on me when it comes to standing by you through thick and thin. No use wasting your breath; save it for your work, say I!"

"Let him be, Lil Artha," said the patrol leader, hardly knowing whether it was fidelity to a fellow-scout in distress that influenced Landy, or a dreadful fear lest he find himself left alone in the midst of the dismal swamp.

"Why yes," added Mark, "Landy is doing all right, even if he does wheeze more'n is good for him. But he hasn't stumbled more than six times in the last half hour, which is some record for Landy, you understand, follows [Transcriber's note: fellows?]."

Apparently, Landy took this as a great compliment, for his perspiring face was set in a grin of triumph as he thrust out his tongue at Lil Artha, as much as to say:

"See, Mister Smarty, others appreciate my good qualities if you don't. So just mind your own business, and leave me alone to attend to mine. I'll get there or burst a blood-vessel trying. That's the Smith nature every time."

Having heard Landy talk in this strain many a time the rest of the scouts could easily put these expressions in his mouth, though he was too short of breath just then to give them utterance; looks, however, often count more than mere words.

They had been making splendid progress all this while, and must have covered considerable distance since the time when they watched the official posse wind its way past their hiding-place.

Lil Artha and Elmer had once or twice held a low consultation after making an examination of the tracks they were following.

The others, listening to what the leaders said, found they were comparing notes, and that it appeared to be the opinion of both Hen was getting pretty tired. This they could make out in various ways known to scouts who had made a business of reading the story to be found in tracks.

"You can see how uneven Hen walks most of the time," said Lil Artha; "he wobbles even worse than Landy here, which goes to show he's getting pretty tuckered out. Can you blame the poor fellow when p'raps he's weak from hunger? If any of us had to go without a bite to eat all day we'd get wobbly on our pins, too."

There was no dissenting voice raised to this assertion; eating is so essential to the average boy that nothing on earth can compensate for a dearth of food at the regular intervals.

"Then we saw several places where Hen had sat down to rest, you remember," Elmer reminded the other.

"Yes, and the last time it struck us both that the man had yanked him to his feet again by main force; which I take it wasn't as nice and kind of that bully as you might expect," Lil Artha went on to say.

"Oh! the coward!" Chatz was heard to growl, and the look on his face as he said those few words told what he meant to do if ever the opportunity came his way to strike a blow for the abducted chum.

Filled with renewed determination after this little conference, they once more took up their task. Lil Artha likened their progress to the ways of the Siberian wolf that follows its quarry day and night until in the end its very persistence wins the victory.

"We're in this to the finish," he was fond of saying whenever he had the chance, "and sooner or later we'll get him. The boys of the Wolf Patrol mean to stick to their name, and run the prey to the earth. He just can't get away nohow. All we've got to do is to keep moving, and believe the game is going to come our way. Everybody put his best foot forward again. It's for the honor of the patrol, boys, that we get hold of Hen Condit before the Chief takes him in."

It was now two hours and more since they had started on this new trail. Before this time no doubt the posse must have reached the deserted hide-out, and learned that the birds had flown. Yes, it was even possible that they were coming along the plain trail the seven scouts had left behind them.

Figuring then that the bulky Chief and his men would not exceed their own rate of progress, they could count on almost two full hours' advantage over the others. That surely ought to be an abundance of time in which to carry out their plans, granting that they could overtake the fugitives.

Elmer had again cautioned them to keep still. The swamp was very silent where they now found themselves, and sounds could be carried to some distance under such conditions.

Landy was getting on fairly well, considering a number of things that he had to contend with. Indeed, Elmer meant to tell him as much when he had the chance; for he felt that the stout scout deserved encouragement. What might seem trifles to some of the others assumed the aspect of mountains in the eyes of one who was not gifted with agility by Nature, and had to carry a far greater weight with him than any of his mates were obliged to.

But here was Lil Artha coming to a full stop again. Looking at him the others found that the tracker did not seem to be bending over to examine the trail more closely, as had occurred many times before.

On the contrary, Lil Artha was now raising his head in an expectant attitude. Landy even conjectured that he must be observing a woodpecker boring a hole in some rotten tree-top, and was about to try and follow the supposed line of vision on the part of Lil Artha when he heard him say something.

It was only a brief sentence, but it meant worlds to those tired trail followers.

"I smell smoke--wood smoke at that!" was what Lil Artha hissed, as he continued to sniff vigorously.